Again and again, he took her, pushing her higher, faster, than ever before. She lowered her gaze to meet his and saw an all-encompassing desire to match her own. His hunger was etched on his face and seeing it, fed hers.
Fast. So fast. She had been primed for this before she arrived and now, the payoff was almost on her. She felt a climax coming and welcomed it. Rushed to meet it. His big, strong hands cupped her butt, supporting her while he pushed into her depths with desperation. Together, they raced toward that end that was always more of a beginning for them. An orgasm didn’t finish things between them, it only set them up for the next one. And Emma knew she would never have him enough. Never lose this magic that happened only when he was inside her.
“Stop thinking, Em,” he ordered. “Feel me. Feel me inside you and come. Let go and come.”
“I am,” she said, as splintering sensations opened up deep within her. She locked her gaze with his. “Right now.”
And her body exploded. She called out his name helplessly as wave after wave of satisfaction flooded her system. His gaze held hers and she couldn’t have looked away even if she’d wanted to. Instead, she watched as his body joined hers, as her name erupted from his lips. As his eyes burned into hers.
When the trembling stopped, she dropped her head to his shoulder. “Well, you did it. I’m not worried anymore.”
He gave a short bark of laughter. “Then my work here is done.”
She looked him in the eye. “Oh no, it’s not.”
“Good to know,” he answered and bent his head to give her a quick kiss.
Then something occurred to her and she blurted out, “We didn’t use a condom.”
Caden shrugged. “If something happens, we’ll deal with it then.”
A tiny flicker of hope for a future flared to life in her heart. If he wasn’t worried by a pregnancy scare, then he was thinking beyond the moment.
Lifting her off him, he looked down at her. “I think we could both use another shower.”
Her legs were still trembling, but she nodded, because she had a vision of shower sex floating through her mind.
“You go on up. I’ll get your stuff.”
“You’re really bossy this morning,” she said, a soft smile curving her mouth.
“You complaining?”
“Not today,” she said, because really, all she could think about was having him again. Then she turned and started up the stairs. Feeling his gaze on her, Emma deliberately swung her hips and paused half-way up to look over her shoulder at him.
His eyes were on fire. “You trying to tell me something, Em?”
She licked her lips, tossed her hair back and gave an order to him for a change. “You bet. Get moving, cowboy. I want that shower.”
He grinned. “Yes, ma’am.”
* * *
A few hours later, Caden sat next to Emma at his lawyer’s office. That email from Dorian Baxter had to be handled legally and Caden knew they had to act fast. If they hadn’t had to be here, he never would have left the ranch. Not after having Emma against the door, in the shower and on the bed. The woman stirred him up like no one else.
Even thinking about their morning was enough to stir his blood and make his dick cry for mercy.
Max Finley scanned the letter from Terry that Emma had handed him and when he was finished reading, he looked up and took off his glasses. “This is the only proof of custody you have?”
Emma blindly reached for Caden’s hand and he took it, folding his fingers around hers.
“Yes.” Emma’s voice sounded breathy, vulnerable, and Caden didn’t like it. “She left me that note the day she died.”
Max leaned back in the burgundy leather chair. “It’s not enough. You know that, don’t you?”
“Yes, I do,” she said softly. “But I couldn’t leave Molly with that man. He didn’t want her. I can’t imagine why he’s trying to get her now.”
Caden hated hearing that uncertainty and fear in Emma’s voice. He owed this Dorian Baxter a world of hurt for causing it.
“Probably someone found out about the baby,” Caden said. “Maybe they’re hoping to make him look bad and he’s trying to head that off at the pass.”
“Could be,” Max mused, then his gaze fixed on Emma again. “Do you have any evidence of what you say he did to your roommate? Any proof at all of his character?”
“Or lack thereof,” Caden muttered. It would almost be worth a flight to Hollywood if he could plant his fist in the man’s face.
Max nodded at him.
But Emma said, “No. No proof. But it’s an open secret in Hollywood. People know what he’s like, it’s just that no one talks about it.”
“Again, it’s simply not enough.”
“Look, Max,” Caden said gruffly, “what Emma’s done was to protect that baby. You have to admire that. God knows I do.”
From the corner of his eye, he saw Emma’s surprise. He couldn’t blame her for that. Over the last week or so, they’d been closer than ever before and at the same time, as distant as the earth from the moon. Having her here again tangled Caden up in so many knots, he couldn’t count them all. Hours ago, she’d been naked in his bed and God knew he still wanted her. Still loved her. But how the hell was he supposed to trust her to stay?
She’d left him to chase a dream and run home when that dream crashed down around her. But if they went forward from here, didn’t that make Caden her second choice? How could he live with that? How could he spend the rest of his life wondering if she’d always be looking for more than they had together?
He didn’t know where the hell they went from here, but Caden would do all he could to help her protect her friend’s baby. Because Caden hated men who took advantage of women. He’d do whatever he could to keep that child away from a man who drove her mother to suicide. And because he’d do anything for Emma—anything but trust her.
“Listen, Max,” he said, “Baxter doesn’t know what Emma might have. For all he knows, she’s got Terry’s diary, spelling out everything.”
“I think I see where you’re going,” Max said, and a slow smile spread across his face. “We send an email—followed up by a very official registered letter—telling him to back off or our evidence will go public.”
“Exactly,” Caden said, nodding. “In the current atmosphere—especially in Hollywood—his career would be over.”
“You really think it’ll work?” Emma asked.
He looked her in the eye. “I do. Baxter won’t want to test us. He has too much to lose.” Then he turned to face his lawyer again. “But on the off chance he won’t let this go, I want you to do something for me.”
Max smiled again. This is why he was Caden’s lawyer. They’d been friends for years and were usually on the same page about most things.
“Let me guess,” Max mused. “You want me to hire an investigator in LA. Do some quick digging.”
“Always said you were a smart guy,” Caden said. “Hire as many investigators as you think we need. Offer bonuses if they come up with something fast that we can use against this guy.”
“Caden... I can’t pay for that,” Emma protested.
“I didn’t ask you to.” Caden caught her gaze and held it. “You can be hardheaded about something else, okay? Let this one go.”
She thought about it for a minute and he knew her pride had to be dented. But finally, she nodded. “Okay. For Molly. And thanks.”
“I know some people in LA,” Max said. “I’ll make some calls and get this moving.”
“Thanks, Max. Knew I could count on you.”
* * *
Emma was grateful for Caden’s help. Without him doing all of this, she didn’t know what she would have done. The thought of giving the baby over to Dorian Baxter was enough to give a statue cold chills. The only other thing she could have done
was take the baby and run—and God knew how that would have ended.
At Tucker’s, a steak house just outside Kalispell, Emma looked across the table at him. He was dressed all in black but for the crisp white dress shirt beneath his jacket. His black hat and gleaming black boots only added to the picture of professional, gorgeous and just that delicious touch of wicked that she loved.
She’d seen that wicked side of him a few hours ago. And just remembering what they’d done sent a thrill up her spine and settled an ache between her thighs. How could she want him so much? And what would she do if he pulled back from her? If he never believed that she was home to stay?
“Thank you, Caden,” she said when the waiter left after taking their order.
“For lunch? Not a problem.”
“Not for lunch. For what you’re doing for me and Molly.”
He sipped at his beer, then set it down on the white-cloth-covered table. He was quiet, thoughtful and for a few seconds, Emma held her breath.
“I don’t like men who use power against people,” he said. “And I really don’t like them using it against you.”
A flush of warmth raced through her and her heart filled with hope again. Hope that there was a future for them.
Coming here, to Tucker’s was a good sign, too. This used to be “their” place. The restaurant had been in the same spot for fifty years. There was a stone hearth, with a roaring fire sending waves of heat across the room. Dozens of heavy wooden tables, draped with midnight blue cloths were crowded with laughing, talking people and the restaurant served the best steaks in Montana.
“Do you think it’ll work? Bluffing Dorian?”
“I think so.” He shrugged and didn’t look the least bit worried. “If it doesn’t, Max will get a backup plan in place.”
Something suddenly occurred to her and Emma said softly, “Speaking of plans, Gracie told me what she’s going to build at the ranch.”
“Did she? Well, good.”
“She said she already had the money for the project,” Emma added. “You loaned it to her, didn’t you?”
His eyes flashed and his lips twisted into a frown. “Yeah, I did. It’s a good idea and Gracie will be great at it. She’s smart and steady and she works hard. So if you’re thinking of giving me grief over it—”
“Thank you.”
He stopped midsentence and stared at her. “You surprise me, Emma. I expected anger from you over this. You haven’t been real happy with what close friends Gracie and I are. I wasn’t expecting gratitude.”
“Well,” she said, “I am grateful. For this. For all the help you gave my dad while I was gone. For looking out for my family while I was gone.”
“You don’t have to thank me,” he said tightly.
“I am anyway, so just deal with it.”
He laughed shortly. “That’s more like the Emma I know.”
“Emma?”
She turned in her chair and grinned as Jess Whitehead hurried over to the table. The woman shot Caden a quick smile. “Hi, Caden, good to see you.”
“You, too, Jess.”
“I’m not going to interrupt—well, not for long anyway,” she said with a laugh. “Did Gracie give you my message?”
“What? No,” Emma said, curious now. “But with the storm and everything, she probably forgot.” At least she hoped that was the reason Gracie hadn’t said anything.
“Well, I’ll make this quick. Gracie said you’re back to stay?”
“I am.” She looked at Caden and saw in his eyes that he still didn’t believe her on that score.
“That’s great. Since you’re staying, I’ve got a job for you.”
Curious, she asked, “What kind of job?”
“You know I’m the principal of Cache High, right?”
“I do now. Imagine that. The ditching queen is now the principal.” Emma laughed, remembering all the times she and Jess had cut school to go to a movie or shopping, or pretty much for any reason at all.
“Hmm,” Jess said, with a wry smile. “Ironic, huh? Anyway, I need a drama teacher and I’ve already spoken to the superintendent and he said that with your education and real-world experience, you qualify for a provisional teaching certificate...”
“Me? A teacher?” Emma thought the idea was crazy, and yet, something about it really appealed to her. What was the old saying? “Those who can’t, teach.”
“You’d be great, Emma. Tell you what, come to the school tomorrow, I’ll introduce you around and you can think about it.” She glanced over her shoulder and waved at her husband at a far table. “I’ve gotta go. Bill’s waiting. I’ll see you tomorrow?”
“Um, sure,” Emma said hesitantly. “I guess so.”
“Great. Good to see you, Caden!” Then she was gone.
He was watching her and she could see questions in his eyes. “What do you think?”
Caden picked up his beer, studied the label for a long minute, then said softly, “I think if you were really planning on staying, you’d have jumped at that job.”
She flushed and felt the heat of it rising inside. Would he ever believe her? Trust her? He wanted her. Might even still love her, but he didn’t trust her and she had no one to blame for that but herself. “I am staying, Caden.”
His gaze fixed on hers. “Then take the job, Emma.”
“There’s other things to consider, you know,” Emma argued, wondering if he would ever stop looking at her with suspicion, mistrust. “There’s Molly to look after, and the ranch. Dad and Gracie.”
“The ranch and your family survived you being gone for five years. I think they could make it through you having a day job.” He set his beer down and leaned in toward her, keeping his voice low enough that no one would overhear him. His gaze held hers as he said flatly, “I think you didn’t take it because you weren’t sure you’d be here long enough to make it worthwhile. I think you’ve kept one foot out the door this whole time, Emma.”
“You’re wrong. I am staying, Caden.” Frustrated now, she clamped her mouth shut when the waiter delivered their meals. But once he was gone again, Emma leaned toward Caden and lowered her voice. “After how we spent our morning, how can you not know what you mean to me?”
He leaned in, too. “That was sex, Em. Great sex, but that’s all.”
“Liar,” she countered. “It was more than that and you know it.”
He took another sip of his beer. His eyes were cool. Distant. And she wanted the fire back.
“How can I make you believe me?”
“You can’t, Emma.” He said it offhandedly, but his gaze never wavered. “You walked away once. Why shouldn’t I expect you to do it again?”
Then he dismissed the conversation completely, sat back and sliced into his filet mignon. Hurt, frustrated and yes, angry again, Emma looked down at her strip steak and pushed it aside. Her throat was so tight now, she wouldn’t have been able to swallow.
Caden suddenly felt further away from her than ever.
Ten
The next day, Emma was back in high school. It still smelled the same. Hormones, hair spray and desperation. What was amazing to her was how much smaller everything seemed.
“We’ve got a growing drama department,” Jess was saying and ushered Emma back to the costume and props area behind the stage in the gym. “A big donor in Kalispell gave us a ton of money because his grandson went here and loved being in the plays.”
Emma stood in the center of the room and did a slow turn, admiring everything. There were racks and racks of costumes, glass-fronted shelves holding wigs and hats and along one wall were stacks of props and plywood ready to be built into whatever backdrop was needed.
When Emma herself took drama at the high school, they’d had donated old clothes from local families and whatever furniture they could scrounge from local charity shops.
Things change, she told herself.
“This is amazing...”
“I know, right?” Jess grinned, grabbed Emma’s hand and tugged her along behind her. “The former drama teacher took a job in Miami, so we really need you, Emma. The kids are great and they’re so excited to meet you.”
She laughed a little. “Why?”
“You’ve been on TV,” Jess said. “You’re from Cache and you succeeded in Hollywood!”
Success, she knew, could look like different things to different people. And Emma had to admit that if she’d had a teacher who’d actually worked in television, she’d have been impressed, too. It wasn’t until actually going to Hollywood herself that she’d found out the truth of the shiny, unreachable goal.
“Come on, I want you to meet a few of the kids.”
Nerves rippled inside Emma. If she took this job, it might prove to Caden that she was staying. But should she have to prove herself? Couldn’t he take her at her word? Was she going to have to pay penance for years for taking a chance on her dream? In spite of the help he’d offered yesterday, she couldn’t help but remember how the day had ended. With mistrust. Suspicion.
But this wasn’t only about what was between her and Caden, Emma told herself. Taking this job, she’d be walking a fine line between encouraging the kids to go for what they wanted while at the same time cautioning them about a hard reality. Would they want to hear it?
It had been a while since she’d had to relate to a teenager. But when she stepped out onto the stage where two girls and a boy were waiting for her, Emma immediately felt at home. This school, this very stage, had first awakened her dreams of stardom. Seeing the expression on the faces of these kids, she knew they were feeling the same thing she had so long ago.
“Ms. Williams!” One of the girls, a short brunette, hurried forward. “Mrs. Whitehead says you’re the new drama teacher.”
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